King Harvest (Has Surely Come)
by OmniHelix
Summary: AU. Fourth story in the "Bohemian Finchel" series. Rachel and Finn's band is on the cusp of recognition right as she begins to look to Broadway again.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is the fourth installment of my very AU, "Bohemian Finchel" series, which I have revived because, of all the possible happy endings for Finchel that I have explored in my fanfics, this was the one I cherished the most. For proper perspective, one should read the previous stories, in this order: **

**And they Played Real Good for Free**

**Your Witness My Own Hand **

**A Symphony of Dreams**

**The title for this story comes from the title of a classic song by The Band. **

**I own none of Glee's characters. I do own all of the OC's. Reviews are welcome!**

**XXXxxx**

Rachel Berry awoke to the shrill whine of the coffee grinder coming from the kitchen. She stretched, realized what day it was, then curled on her side, grateful there was no need to immediately get up: Finn would actually be bringing in coffee and the paper. Such was their Sunday morning luxury, when neither had to work and they needed to recover from the Saturday night Finchel gig. It had been one of those magical shows, she thought happily: Clement's solos were crisp and clean, tied to Eli and Finn's rock-solid rhythm section, and her singing had seemed effortless. The crowd at Arlene's Grocery was appreciative and vocal, which Rachel always loved. She looked forward to reading the fan emails for pictures.

Finn eventually came in with mugs of fresh black coffee, and dropped _The New York Times _and the latest issue of _Rolling Stone_ on the bed. She gave him a quick kiss and settled back with the magazine while Finn perused the headlines.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, "Finn, they have the review of Mercedes's new album!"

Finn looked up. "Fantastic! Read it to me." He sipped his coffee waiting for her to find the page.

"It's not the featured review," Rachel pouted, disappointed, "And they gave it only three stars!"

"They gave her first album three stars as well. And it won the Grammy". 

True, but _still_.

She sipped some coffee and started to read:

_**No Back Row Belter—Mercedes Jones. Atlantic. **_

_**When Mercedes Jones burst on the soul and R&B scene several years ago, she seemed like the standard bearer for a new generation. Gone were the tedious, endless, runs-for-the sake-of-runs that made us want to fill our ears with molten lead for the last two decades. It's not like the world needed another Maria Carey. Instead, her huge, emotive roar managed to transform even the most mediocre pap into life-changing anthems. While we pointed out on these pages that her eponymous first album lacked imagination in song choice (after all, just because she can elevate mediocre pap to greatness doesn't mean she has to actually do it several times in a row on the same record), her vocal chops simply could not be denied—the record went platinum and won the Grammy for best R&B album. We have rarely felt so good about being wrong. **_

_**For her sophomore effort, we truly wanted to be able to say that Ms. Jones had gotten over the "I'm here, bitches" phase and settled into the kind of serious re-evaluation of a genre to which her mighty instrument is so uniquely suited. Alas, we must report that **_**"**_**No Back Row Belter" is almost completely more of the same. For most of this album, it feels like Ms Jones couldn't be bothered to delve deeper than the last couple of years' Top 40 R&B hits. But there are two signs of hope. The first is a revelatory version of the 1967 soul classic "The Dark End of the Street". Ms Jones turns this ode to the shame of illicit love into a glorious, swelling affirmation of the power of love itself. Now that's what we were talking about. But the real jewel on this album, however, is the haunting "Zambezi Lullaby", by the little-known Brooklyn-based songwriting team of Rachel Berry and Finn Hudson. It is—literally—a lullaby, sung by a mother to her maimed child-soldier son, returned from the civil war in Mozambique. Accompanied only by the nayatiti, a traditional Kenyan lyre (played by Clement Atlee, guitarist for Berry and Hudson's band Finchel), Ms. Jones takes the song's eighteen simple lines and manages to make them speak for the sorrow and anguish of an entire continent. If Ms. Jones can keep tapping wells like this, she may very well fulfill her promise as the Savior of Soul.**_

"Um, Rachel…." Finn said slowly, the realization dawning on him.

"I know. This can't be happening. We've just been mentioned in _Rolling Stone_!" She grabbed her phone.

**XXXXXxxxxxx**

"This Band Meeting will come to order!"

Rachel banged her little gavel on the table in their kitchen. She was glad she didn't need to use it to preside over meetings about her sex life anymore. The fact was, she still only used it to amuse Finn, who never seemed to tire of the joke. He was sitting at the opposite end of the table, playing with his wine glass, grinning to himself. Clement and Eli, blissfully clueless, had beers. Eli looked excited; Clement, thoughtful.

Band meetings were a post-Finchel-gig ritual on Sunday afternoons. Rachel and Finn would cook an early dinner, while Clement and Eli provided wine and/or beer. Dinner conversation was usually restricted to non-band talk; the four of them had become close friends over the past three years, and Rachel insisted they nurture that while eating. This Sunday, Eli's recent breakup with his girlfriend was the topic, but it was impossible to completely suppress excitement over the _Rolling Stone_ review.

"I suppose we can call the agenda 'Where Do We Go From Here?'" Rachel said, looking around the table. Part of the ritual was for each member to briefly make a statement without interruption, in order to get a feel for what needed to be discussed. It was Clement's turn to be scribe, so he spoke first.

"I don't know what any of this means," he said soberly. "Besides, I haven't heard any of our phones ringing lately." He nodded to Eli.

"My mom wonders why I wasn't mentioned," Eli grinned. "But seriously, guys, we could be on the verge of a big break. And we need to know how we are going to handle it. "

Rachel spoke next. "Well, I was talking with Mercedes today about the review. She said anything could happen. It may just be a request to do another of our songs, but it could also mean someone coming out and scouting a Finchel gig! While I'm comfortable with practically anybody doing one of our songs—we could all use the money—I'm not sure how we should handle anything involving Finchel. I mean, what if we were presented the opportunity for a record contract, or asked to back another artist on tour?" She took a sip of wine, indicating she was done.

Finn put down his glass. "I agree with Rachel about the song thing. I mean, that song took care of a chunk of our college loans, right?" Everyone laughed. Even though Rachel and Finn wrote the songs and received songwriting credit, the band shared all of the proceeds from them equally. And it warmed Rachel to think all of them had applied the share from Mercedes's cover to pay student loans. Finn continued, "But I also agree with her and Eli that we need to decide how to handle Finchel stuff." There were nods all around, so Finn took the floor to start the discussion.

"Three years ago we started Finchel, without any of us really knowing how to be in a real band. And we've kind of grown into a family as we learned, right?" More nods. "But all four of us have one more thing in common: were still in college."

"We could always take time off from school if the need arose," Rachel pointed out, "A contract or tour could be the opportunity that never gets repeated."

"Yeah!" exclaimed Eli, "Exactly!"

Clement said nothing. It was obvious though, that he was processing everything in the background, not wanting to speak until he had it all straight.

Finn picked up his glass again. "I know we could take a break from school. And it's true this kind of opportunity, if it arose, might never come again." He paused and ran his hand through his hair, a sign Rachel knew meant he was struggling to say something. "I also know we do everything by vote, so I'm willing to go with what the band decides. But I'm going to be selfish here for a moment." Another pause. He looked directly at Rachel, and she knew he was about to be honest. Painfully so.

"When I was in high school, I wasn't much of a student. Sports, music, and video games pretty much took precedent. I knew nothing about the world or other cultures. I was destined for the future everyone had planned out for me. I was going to remain in Lima, run my stepfather's tire shop, marry a local girl, and settle down." He stared into his glass, as if he could see that alternate life playing out in the wine. Clement and Eli listened, but they had heard this story before. Rachel felt herself blushing, because she knew what was coming.

"Until I met Rachel, who showed me how to dream myself out of that town. But you know that part of the story. What you don't know is how much I love college. There was a time when I thought a higher education just wasn't for me. Man, was I wrong. I know it's kind of a cliché, but it has broadened my horizons. I could never have written songs with Rachel like "Zambezi Lullaby" if I hadn't learned about modern Africa." He paused, to let that sink in. "Yeah, that's right. We all owe our little financial windfall from the song to Queens College. I guess what I want to say is, I want us all to finish up school before we launch Finchel into the big bad world. We can only become better artists with knowledge. It's not that much longer, guys. Just until June." He looked around the table, and saw everyone taking that in.

"Shall we vote?" he asked. "I vote aye to college first."

"Finn convinced me," said Rachel. "Aye."

Eli had no problem. "Aye."

Clement thought a little more, but eventually raised his hand. "I'll make it unanimous".

Finn then asked to keep the floor.

"There is one other thing." At that he stood, walked over to Rachel, picked her up, sat down in her chair, and placed her on his lap, leaving her speechless. "I have to fulfill a promise I made to myself." He kissed the top of her head. "Rachel, of all the people in this room, you have compromised your true dreams the most." She tried to protest, but he placed a finger on her lips. "I know you love songwriting and Finchel, but don't think I haven't noticed the faraway look you get when the Tony Awards are broadcast. I know you look smoking hot in leather and leggings on stage, but I also know you yearn for Maria's dresses and Elphaba's gowns."

She couldn't have adored him more than at that moment.

"We've been here almost six years. I think it's time for you to start auditioning again, if you want."

But the implications were troubling.

"So what does that mean, Finn?" Clement finally spoke up. "You want Rachel to leave the band?"

"No, not necessarily," Finn said, holding up his hands. "But I would like to consider what the impact of Rachel starting to shoot for Broadway would have on Finchel."

Everyone was looking at her now. It felt so good to know that all three of them loved her, and would support any decision she made. They had all pledged that to each other in their very first band meeting.

"I can't deny that is what I always wanted," she said slowly. "And if I did get a part in a play, I would not be available for performances." Her face brightened. "I'd still be able to write songs, though."

"I have an idea." Rachel, Finn and Clement immediately looked to Eli, who kept glancing down, fiddling with his beer bottle, the way he usually did when coming up with suggestions. "Rachel shouldn't leave the band completely, even though she's right about her availability to Finchel when she gets a part."

Rachel went all warm inside at Eli's "when" instead of "if".

"We should get another female singer, who can share vocals with Rachel while she looks for work, and take on the role completely while Rachel is on Broadway."

This was new for all of them; they had never considered adding a new member.

"Are we talking full band rights?" Clement asked.

Finn looked at Rachel, but knew what she would say. "I think full band rights, including an equal share of the income, would be fair," he said.

"So, Rachel, what do you think?" Eli looked excited, while Finn and Clement seemed anxious.

"I…I'm not sure. Imagining someone else at the microphone is hard for me right now…but Finn's right: Broadway is my true dream, the one I practically prepared for my whole life." She grew resolute, and sat up straight in Finn's lap. "I say let's look for a singer. Full band rights."

"Aye," Finn said.

"Aye." Eli grinned as he raised his hand. Everyone looked at Clement, who remained lost in thought. He slowly raised his hand.

"Okay, Aye!"

They agreed to begin searching right away, even though Rachel said she wouldn't start auditioning until after graduation.

**XXXxxxx**

The neighborhood was unusually quiet for a Sunday night. There seemed to be a convergence of stillness, such that the only sound she could hear was his deep, regular breathing. Finn was comfortably spooned against her back, arm reaching over and holding her close, even as he slept. This was how they slept, and had slept every night since leaving their childhood home. Their bed was the old wooden one they had bought for almost nothing at an estate sale when they first arrived in New York.

Rachel thought back to those days when all they had was each other and their dreams. Of the long shifts at their jobs, and how she would massage Finn's aching shoulders and he would insist on rubbing her feet after being on them all day. Of him comforting her in this bed after every failed audition. "No callback sex", they named it, and that first year it was so common she sometimes came to look forward to not getting auditions. They battled the loneliness and exhaustion by exploring their new city, and trying various cuisines. And then came the songwriting, and the decision to go back to school, and Fred, and Clement and Eli, and the realization that they had made a full, rich life for themselves. A life where no one had handed them anything, a life with friends who loved them for who they were, neighbors they enjoyed and trusted, and fans who lovingly sent them pictures from their gigs.

And now it was time for Rachel to go back to her original Dream, the one she had pursued long before ever meeting Finn, but could not achieve without him. As she lay there, warm and safe, a flash of guilt came over her, a sense that she was being selfish going after this, when she had so much now already. But Finn, still asleep, snapped her out of it when his hand slid up to her breast, reminding her that he would not rest until she was what he knew she was meant to be. With the erotic shivers came confidence and the determination to make him proud. And she made a promise to him, right then and there, to stay with the songwriting and Finchel whenever she could. Because that was what she was meant to be, too.

Rachel was warm, and safe, and loved. That brought on sleep, finally, but as she dropped off, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to work with a new singer and a new dynamic.

She was sound asleep before she had time to really contemplate that.


	2. Chapter 2

He walked the half mile from the garage to meet her at the restaurant after her shift, like he always did when the weather was good and they had no evening classes scheduled. Even though she was usually tired, feet hurting despite the soft comfortable shoes she wore, they rarely passed up an opportunity to walk the mile to their apartment together. It didn't matter that the garage's industrial strength soap sometimes didn't get all of the dirt and grease from his hands, or that his rough clothes and her waitress's uniform weren't the height of New York fashion, or that her hair was limp from the steam in the kitchen. What mattered was that she could take his arm and stroll along after an honest day's work through their working-class neighborhood, content in the knowledge she was with her favorite person in the entire world. They lived in a neighborhood populated mainly by young Central American immigrant families, with some of the earlier Polish immigrants as well (taking advantage of the rent control), so, as children played on the sidewalk, tantalizing cooking smells drifted from windows at dinner time, and the air was filled with a blend of cultural voices.

One of the things Finn came to love about New York was what he called its vocal music, that melodious mixture of languages that filled its streets. When he and Rachel went into the city to play in Washington Square Park, Finn relished listening to the sounds of the crowd, the bustle that sang in an ever changing voice, Japanese one moment, flowing into guttural Russian the next, or the cultured murmur of Farsi. It was no Babel to him, but a song in and of itself, the song of humankind. When walking home with Rachel the air often shimmered with Spanish singing on radios, punctuated by shouts in Polish or heavily-accented English. Ever since moving here he had wanted to write a song celebrating it.

Their walks helped establish them in their neighborhood. They knew many of the children who played on the street, and adults who sat on stoops and waved in greeting as they passed. One day Finn had to work late and Rachel decided to walk home by herself. A woman she had seen before asked her if she was okay, and offered to have her teenage son escort her home.

And there were the little, intimate things: her always bringing home a flask of good coffee from the restaurant for their studying, and he always seeming to know when she just had to have a pastry from the wonderful, family-owned Polish bakery on the way. He knew she had underestimated the spring chill, but didn't want to say anything to him, yet pressed against him gratefully when he draped his old leather bomber jacket over her light sweater. She knew how hungry he got late at night studying, so she made sure to pack some of the restaurant's turkey and stuffing in her bag to surprise him with later.

They would talk as they strolled, about anything and everything. Song ideas, current events, upcoming gigs, school, their adorable elderly neighbor Mrs Wolinski's latest excuse to ask for Finn's help around her apartment. This time they enjoyed the April air and discussed her Broadway plans.

"There's a new off-Broadway musical holding auditions next week," Rachel said. "Amy said the female lead sounded like it was perfect for me. It's a musical by Klaus Fermi."

He stopped walking. She could tell he was trying to hide his panic. She knew he knew who Klaus Fermi was.

"And you told her Klaus Fermi was insane, right? And that getting cast in one of his shows was the kiss of death, career-wise, right?" She didn't respond. "Right?"

'Finn, please. Give me some credit. There's no way I would audition for one of his freak shows." She tried to stop from giggling, but failed, holding onto his arm for support. He gave an exaggerated sigh of exasperation, ending up laughing with her. She was his life, and he adored her.

"Besides," she pulled his face down for a kiss, "I'm not doing this until we graduate and have a singer integrated with the band."

She loved him, and what they had made together, he knew that. At Finchel gigs she came alive, eyes flashing, looking impossibly sexy as she held the audience in thrall. And the joy they shared in writing songs lasted, sometimes, far into the night, late enough to cause them to fall asleep in an evening class after having worked a full shift. Clement and Eli often marveled at how they had any energy left at all. Not having to deal with school anymore would certainly be welcome, he thought. Just their jobs, songwriting and Finchel/Broadway. Heaven, right?

It could be. But Finn wanted more. He wanted to not have to walk her home, dog-tired from working in a restaurant. He wanted her to take limos home from work, pursued by paparazzi, dressed in _haute couture_, not a shabby waitress's uniform. He wanted the world to see her as he did, to admire her as he did. Even if it meant giving up no-callback sex.

She had no regrets about her life with him, he knew that. That didn't stop him from still wanting the world for her. Which reminded him.

"We need to stop at the bakery," he said.

**XXXxxxx**

Finn left the garage late. The two hours of overtime he clocked at the garage pushed everything back, but at least traffic on the Long Island Expressway was light: the trip to the Queens College campus in Flushing took only 20 minutes. He needed to get to the library and find a book. Most required class readings were available online, but there was an additional reference he needed for a paper that could only be obtained from the stacks, so he worked his way down the aisles, found the book, then debated whether or not to check it out and go home. A glance told him the section he needed was fairly short, so he simply sat on the floor between the shelves and started reading, taking notes as he went along.

"There are some tables available, you know." Finn looked up to see a slender, pretty-in-an-emoish-kind-of-way student worker smiling at him curiously. She stood by her book cart and pointed to a few.

"Old high school habit,' Finn replied, with a grin. She raised one eyebrow. Then it occurred to him.

"Would you do me a favor?" he asked her. "Please take a picture of me sitting here?"

"Sure," she said, took his phone, and snapped the picture. He immediately sent it to Rachel via text. "For somebody special?" The girl ventured the question, hoping for a negative answer, but Finn didn't pick up on it in time.

"Yeah," he affirmed. "If it wasn't for her, I'd still be working in a tire shop in Lima, Ohio." His face softened as a he spoke, and she could see that this guy was a goner for this girl, whoever she was.

"I wish I had someone like that, "she murmured absently, then blushed, mortified, when she realized he had heard her.

Finn gave her a sympathetic smile.

She started to push her cart along but stopped.

"Wait," she said, realizing something. She looked at him intently. "You play drums, don't you? In that band, Finchel?"

"I sure do." She smiled again.

"We caught your second set at the Brooklyn Pool the last time you were there. I love your stuff, especially the original songs."

"Thanks."

"So the girl singer is who you sent the picture to?"

"Yep. How did you know?"

"Easy," the girl said, laughing. "Anyone could tell that the two of you were an item."

"Her name's Rachel. She's also my songwriting partner. My name's Finn."

"Maddie." She paused, as if debating what to say next, but decided to say it anyway.

"I used to sing in a band." She had a faraway look.

"What band?" Finn was suddenly interested.

"Tell Any Indian."

"No way. You sang in Tell Any Indian? They rocked!" Suddenly he realized who she was. "You're Maddie Pennington!"

The girl laughed. "Yeah, that's me."

Onstage, she had looked completely different. The strawberry-blonde pixie haircut was the same, but instead of the old flannel shirt, skinny jeans and battered sneakers she wore now, she had looked fierce in a skintight, scandalously short metallic-blue dress and heels, and smoky makeup. Finn remembered she had a low, dark voice that Rachel commented on favorably, and which at the time he had imagined harmonizing perfectly with Rachel's. He liked how she stalked the stage restlessly as she sang, like a caged animal. She also played keyboards. The band's music was complex, dark and explosive, reminiscent of PJ Harvey.

"We saw you once last year. You were awesome. Whatever happened to the band, anyway?" They seemed to have dropped off the map. She looked down and shrugged.

"Drugs. The two guitarists decided mainlining heroin was more fun than making music."

"That's a damned shame," Finn said, sincerely. "Were you a student then, too?" Maddie nodded. "I'm a junior now. Math major."

"Any singing gigs since?"

"No," she sighed. "All the nice reviews we got couldn't compensate for the internal band bullshit. It wore me out. I've been focusing on my grades, lately."

"I can dig that." He sympathized. "We graduate this year."

There was an awkward pause. Finn wondered if Maddie might be the person to step in for Rachel as they had agreed. He just wasn't sure about the fit. But this chance meeting with a very good singer seemed too good to waste. Nothing ventured, nothing gained, he decided.

"Listen, Maddie," he said, getting up. "Would you be interested in a gig with Finchel?" He gave her his winningest smile. "Hardly any internal band bullshit."

"Why would you need a new singer?" She seemed skeptical.

He explained the situation with Rachel, how as long as she was auditioning they'd probably share the singing duties, but if she got a Broadway role, then Maddie would be expected to front the band.

"Ah, so that that explains the Broadway songs in your repertoire." She nodded, understanding. "We were talking afterwards, wondering what was up with that."

"Rachel has dreamed of singing on Broadway since she was a little girl."

"So this whole Finchel (now I get the name!) and songwriting thing—it wasn't planned?"

He shook his head. "It's a long story. Look, there's a Finchel gig Saturday in Queens, at The Barracks. Do you know it? "

"Oh yeah, we played there once."

"Why don't you catch the show, and join us back at Rachel's and my place afterwards? The whole band kind of likes to hang out together for a drink after a show at our apartment, 'cause some of us are still underage."

"So you and Rachel live together, off-campus?" Maddie looked wistful. "I used to as well, but moved back to the dorms after the band broke up."

He didn't ask her to elaborate. "Rachel and I have lived together since we came out to New York after high school." he said. "Almost six years now."

"Very cool. I lived with Jack, the band's lead guitarist, until he decided he loved heroin more than me."

She looked at Finn directly. "I don't use, by the way. I smoke pot on occasion. Is that a problem?"

Finn laughed, thinking of Clement and Eli's fondness for herbal refreshment. "No," he replied, laughing, "Some of us indulge on occasion as well. Rachel doesn't, but it's no big deal."

"Okay, cool. Saturday night sounds like fun."

She did have one more question. "What about the money?" She asked almost bluntly, but delivered with an easy grin.

"We split everything equally."

"Including songwriting?"

"Do you write songs?"

"I wrote a few of the band's songs, yeah."

This was getting better and better. Having another songwriter would be like being in Fleetwood Mac. "Rachel and I write songs as a team, and credit goes to both of us, but we share the proceeds equally with the band. You'd be expected to do the same."

Maddie pursed her lips and nodded. "Sounds fair."

"Cool. See you on Saturday."

**XXXxxxxx**

"Give me a minute," Rachel said as Finn finally made it home. "I have dinner warming in the oven." She looked adorable, freshly-showered and in her blue pajamas with white polka dots.

"You didn't already eat?" he asked, hanging up his coat as she bustled about. "It's almost nine. How did you survive?"

"Mrs Wolinski dropped by, wanting to thank us for picking up her groceries last week, and left some of her potato pancakes with mushroom sauce." A mischievous, guilty pout. "I couldn't resist, so I ate one." He chuckled. "There's two for you and one for me, plus some green beans, and I also scored a pork chop from the restaurant for you!" He sighed with pleasure. "It'll be ready after your shower."

He was grateful for that; the warm water eased his soreness, and he worked some more on his hands. When he emerged, refreshed, from the bathroom in his t-shirt and pajama bottoms, everything was on the table. He hugged Rachel.

"Thanks, babe. Sorry about work running over."

"No problem. You have to promise me something, though."

"What's that?"

"We spend the rest of the evening on the couch just doing nothing."

"Deal." That sounded absolutely wonderful. His paper was almost finished, and wasn't due until next week anyway. And he knew Rachel was caught up as well.

Finn tucked into the meal with famished gusto. She let him take the edge off his appetite first before engaging in conversation. She brought up the picture.

"I love when you reference our past like that." Her voice was soft. He reached across the table and caressed her cheek. Her braided hair made her look so young to him, then. Almost too young for them to have a past, it seemed. But they did.

"I had a piece of luck while I was there," he said.

"Oh?"

"I asked a student worker to take the picture, and we started talking, because she recognized me from Finchel."

"A fan?"

"More than that. She turned out to be the former singer and keyboard player for Tell Any Indian."

Rachel furrowed her brow for a moment. "Really? She was great, right? Maddie…Maddie something, reddish hair?"

"Maddie Pennington, yeah. The band broke up a year ago. I asked if she would be interested in a gig with Finchel, and invited her to our show Saturday, so she can talk to us afterwards."

"Was she interested?"

"She seemed to be."

"Wow."

He looked at her, concerned. "You okay?"

"Yes, yes…" she was thoughtful. "It's just getting real."

They finished the meal, cleared the dishes, and went into the small living room. Rachel tucked her legs under her and cuddled next to Finn on the couch. To be able to just sit quietly together was a luxury to them, and they took full advantage of it. He held her hand, and she rubbed his chest, resting her head on his shoulder.

"I know you're expecting me to want to talk about this," she said suddenly.

"Well, you _are_ Rachel Berry," he joked, rubbing her knuckles with his thumb.

"I'm enjoying just being with you right now."

"Me too."

"Good. Let's talk more about it after a good night's sleep."

"My God. A good night's sleep…" He hugged her to him. She sighed in contentment.

"I love you, Finn."

"I love you too, baby."

For now it w as just the two of them. They could deal with the rest of their world in the morning.


	3. Chapter 3

The next morning Rachel awoke before Finn, as she usually did. The 6 AM alarm wasn't set to go off for another 15 minutes, so she cuddled closer against him, enjoying both his morning arousal and his warmth. She pulled the comforter up under her chin in the dim light from the street. They had classes that evening, so Finn would drive her to work and pick her up afterwards to get to campus. Since they weren't walking to work, the alarm was set for an hour later than usual.

She pondered the irony that school, which usually took up an enormous amount of time and effort, at least granted them an extra hour of sleep on Tuesdays and Thursdays, when they had classes. Not that Rachel or Finn complained much about their life; they simply acknowledged freely the importance of sleep to it. Since they had not stayed up late, she was refreshed, and, after a few minutes, shook Finn awake and got up.

The ballet of their morning routine had begun.

She headed for the bathroom while he made the coffee and listened to NPR as she showered quickly. Then they switched, Finn handing her coffee as they crossed paths, and when he emerged from the bathroom she had breakfast laid out: oatmeal and fruit for her, and usually a cereal for him. Rachel adored how he had grown out of kid's cereals (on his own mind you, without her nagging—she would never have dreamed of begrudging him his Captain Crunch when they first arrived in New York). Instead, he had found two cereals he loved in the health food section of the market: one with delicious oat flakes and blueberry clusters; the other toasted corn "O's", lightly sweetened with pomegranate juice. He often shared them with her. They would quietly eat and listen to NPR, commenting on the stories, and making sure they caught some local news before clearing the dishes and heading out the door.

She looked out the window of the truck. "I never really thanked you for what you said about me at the band meeting."

"No need to thank me, you know that."

"I want to." And she turned her head to let him know how good she felt. "You've always believed in me for the right reasons, and you'll never know how much I love that about you."

He smiled and nodded, watching the road.

"I don't know how easy it will be trying to integrate someone new into Finchel," she said. "I was thinking about that in the shower, about how all four of us have contributed to what the band _is_, and if it can stay that way with Maddie as a member. Tell Any Indian was so much…_heavier_ than us, remember?"

"I know. That occurred to me as well." Finn glanced at her reassuringly.

"On the other hand," Rachel said, "She's got a great voice and plays keyboards. Having her on board while I'm still available would let us have that organ/piano combination Clement's been dreaming about for that Procol Harum rocker he likes." Clement had excitedly made them listen to a live version of the song "Strong as Samson", that had an incredible extended guitar solo. "But it only works with that cool organ/piano underpinning," he had said with a sigh.

"Maybe we can try it as part of her audition," Finn suggested.

"Yeah." She sighed, still looking out the window.

"You're wondering if you still have it." God he knew her so well.

"I can't help it. It's been five years, Finn."

"Five years of performing experience, remember. And acting and singing training."

"You're just determined to make me feel like I can do anything, aren't you?"

"You hate it when I'm right." That brought a small smile to her face.

"You weren't in the right place when we first got here. Now it's your time, baby."

"But what about you?"

They hadn't had this kind of conversation in a long time.

"Considering my baseline was working in my stepfather's tire shop in Lima, I have to say I'm feeling pretty fulfilled, right now." He reached over, placing his finger on her lip as she prepared to deliver a retort. "I'm writing and publishing songs with the artist I respect more than any in the whole world; I've been named in _Rolling Stone;_ I'm in a band; I'm about to graduate from college; I get to sleep every night with the woman I adore." He took his finger off her lip as they pulled up outside the restaurant. "I love my life."

Their eyes met, exchanging that confident, intimate look that only a happy life together made possible.

"I love you," she said, kissing him before opening the door.

"I love you, too, baby. See you tonight."

Neither ever parted in the morning without saying "I love you." It was never spoken in that awful, forced, sappy way many people do. It was firm, and heartfelt. Because they were his Rachel and her Finn, and that is what they felt, each and every moment of every day. And when they were rejoined in the evening, there was always a kiss, because that was their life, too.

He texted her at lunch; she texted him on her breaks. She was waiting on the sidewalk outside the restaurant when he pulled up, and they walked arm-arm to class, and she was always outside the door after his last class, because that was what they were as well.

On the way home they discussed the upcoming gig. It was an important one, because they were going to unveil a new song. Clement and Eli—via phone calls—had been updated about Maddie showing up, and both sounded positive, though, endearingly, each asked Rachel how she felt about it. I'm fine, she told them, really. They had toyed with the idea of increasing attendance at the second set by telling the first crowd that the new song would be revealed at the second set, but Clement objected, calling it a dick move to the kids that couldn't afford to come to both shows. _Duh._ The vote was shamefacedly unanimous .

While Rachel showered, Finn made dinner—a meatless, frozen lasagna—thank God for microwaves-with some garlic toast and a salad. They studied till about midnight, then collapsed into bed, exhausted, content, happy with their life.

**XXXxxxx **

Friday, if there was no Finchel gig, was date night. They loved going to movies most of all, because it allowed them to just relax together, a luxury, given their busy lives. One of the blessings of living in New York was the sheer choice, especially the number of art houses showing unusual films. This Friday was Finn's choice.

"Rach, you know that Pink Floyd album I like, 'Obscured by Clouds'? " They were on their walk to work.

"Yes. What about it? "

"Well, it was the soundtrack to a film called _The Valley Obscured by Clouds_. The Tivoli is showing the film tonight. The Times said it had some beautiful images of Borneo."

She liked how he read the New York Times every day.

"Sounds good," she said. "Clement told me Ally is coming up from Rutgers today. Maybe we can meet them for a drink afterwards?" Clement once told Rachel that he and Ally, a wicked-smart blonde girl and his high school sweetheart, took inspiration from Rachel and Finn's relationship.

The movie was…interesting. "Nice scenery," Rachel said, "but I expected more Pink Floyd, didn't you?" He agreed. They couldn't believe the director, Barbet Schroeder, had gone on to do _Single White Female_. It didn't make it on their DVD list.

"F-Sharp" was a bar in the Village that catered to local musicians. It was warm and comfortable, unlike the hideously garish "Callbacks", which Rachel had dragged Finn to the first few weeks they were in New York because it was frequented by Broadway types. They soon found out the kids there were more interested in what trendy schools anyone attended than the music. Even after Rachel had delivered a killer performance of "My Man", once they found out she wasn't at NYADA or Tisch, she and Finn may well have not existed. Maybe not entirely true: one ridiculously buff NYADA student with the had-to-be-made up name (at least in Finn's opinion) of Brody tried talking Rachel into ditching Finn (while he was in the mensroom) and going back to his place. He slunk off when Rachel couldn't stop laughing at him. As they were leaving, Rachel went up to Brody in front of a couple of his friends and some girls, saying, "You?" She then pointed to Finn. "Over _him_? Seriously?" She had felt the girls' eyes on Finn as she marched out proudly on his arm.

Ally Mason was tall, like Clement, blonde and blue-eyed, with a sweet, almost retiring disposition that couldn't quite mask a fierce intelligence. Clement liked to boast that she was double-majoring in History and Philosophy, which, Ally dryly noted, made her doubly qualified to be unemployed when she graduated. She and Clement were seated at a table when Rachel and Finn showed up.

A few people inside nodded or waved at them, fellow musicians from a band they had played with at a small local outdoor festival once. Rachel and Finn stopped to ask how things were going; great, they said.

"Billy has been hinting about wanting to do one of our songs," Rachel told Finn as they headed towards Ally and Clement.

At the table there were hugs all around. Magically, a waitress appeared to take their order. She recognized them as regulars.

"What'll you have?" she asked, adding, "First round is on the house." When they looked up, puzzled, she grinned and said, "We read _Rolling Stone_ too, you know." The bar tender and the owner waved. All four ordered Sam Adams.

"To being famous," Clement toasted, and they clinked glasses.

"If only Eli was here," Rachel said, "Too bad he's underage still. I know what having a December birthday is like."

"He's working on the van with his dad," Clement said. He, Ally and Eli were from Hoboken, New Jersey, just across the river, and Eli's dad let them use the van to transport their gear to gigs.

"Are you excited about Broadway?" Ally asked, and Rachel laughed.

"I'm more terrified, actually. Auditioning for shows is brutal—just ask Finn."

Ally and Clement both looked to Finn. A shadow passed over his face, and Rachel regretted saying that. She squeezed his hand under the table, letting him know, and he instantly relaxed.

"It was tough on her, yeah," he said, and sipped his beer, quickly.

Rachel changed the subject to the gig and the new song. Ally was excited to hear it and to meet the new prospective singer. She remembered seeing Tell Any Indian before.

"That singer was wild," she commented. Everyone nodded.

"She knew how to command a stage," Rachel said, "and her voice was strong."

"Her voice is low, though," Clement mused. "Is she going to fit in with our repertoire? Most of our music fits your voice better, Rachel."

"We'll see how it fits or doesn't fit if she decides to audition," said Finn.

They talked about graduation plans. Ally had been accepted to a History Master's program at NYU, and planned on living with Clement, probably in Brooklyn. Both Clement and Eli planned on getting jobs and looking for music gigs plus Finchel, if it took off. Rachel loved how they basically wanted to model themselves after what she and Finn had.

"All we have to do is find Eli an Ally," Rachel said, laughing. Eli seemed to have taken the breakup with Clara well; he certainly wasn't moping about, even if she did rather unceremoniously dump him. Ever since high school, Clement and Ally said, he went from one girlfriend to another, never ever getting serious. Sometimes he was dumped; sometimes he did the dumping. He was happy-go-lucky, good-looking and laid back, but never seemed to find someone steady.

The waitress appeared very busy, so Clement and Finn got up to order some more beers at the bar. Ally leaned over.

"Rachel, what happened to Finn when you mentioned him and Broadway auditions? He looked really strange."

Rachel looked down. "That was my fault." She played with her bottle. "That was probably the worst time for us here." Finn and Clement were still waiting to be served, so she continued.

"I was an only child, and spoiled beyond belief," she began. "I'd never had to share anything with anybody, least of all my dreams. When the two of us just picked up everything and left for New York, I found myself thrown into a completely new environment. I mean, I was sharing a small apartment with a man I loved but truly hardly knew in the sense of having to live with him, working an exhausting job, and getting rejected time after time on auditions. Finn tried to ease the disappointment as best he could, but, about six months in, I lost hope. And I expressed it by doing the unthinkable: I shut Finn out. Even though we had a backup plan if auditioning failed, I let the disappointment overwhelm me, and, after a big fight…" Her face took on the same distant, sad expression Finn had shown. "…I said I thought we should break up."

Ally looked incredulous. "What? You and Finn?"

"It's not like we hadn't broken up before. But this was different. It was something I don't think he ever expected: me giving up on us."

"What happened?" Ally had never seen such a sad expression on Rachel's face.

"He left the apartment without a word and didn't come home for two days," Rachel said, glancing at the bar and seeing the guys still waiting. "He wouldn't answer his phone, either."

"And…?"

He was standing outside the restaurant after her shift. His face was gaunt, looking like he hadn't slept the entire time, hands in the pockets of his leather jacket. He looks like me, she thought, and stood in front of him, arms wrapped around herself, feeling small, insignificant. The November wind cut through her sweater, and all she really wanted right then was for him to wrap those arms around her. It cut her to the quick to realize she had no right to wish for that. She had given up. But his eyes told a different story. Tired and red-rimmed, they still regarded her with the love she knew both of them would never, ever, be able to deny.

"You—You can't give up on us." He spoke quietly, but firmly. " I refuse to give up on us."

"Then why did you run off for two days?" Her arms were now defensively wrapped around her body.

"I don't know." He sounded pained. "I guess I never thought I'd ever hear you say those words. I always thought I was the only one stupid enough to call us quits. It totally threw me off."

"So now you're calling me stupid?" Rachel let it out with the tiniest of smiles, and her heart leaped at the relief on his face.

"Only if you still mean what you said."

She had done a lot of growing up in the past couple of days. Looked over her folders on their plans (yes, she had folders for EVERYTHING). Thought about how college could actually be good for her. Even fun. More fun together. With him. She also realized that she could now never sleep restfully without him next to her. And there was something else—that damned tether.

"Well, I'm not stupid. So I guess I couldn't have meant what I said." And his arms were around her now, and she felt safe and warm again.

"So, what were you talking about?" Finn and Clement were back. Rachel looked at Ally with a grin.

"I think you can guess what happened," she said, getting up and slipping into Finn's lap.

**A/N: Sorry, I just couldn't resist the Brody story. Reviews welcome! **


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N1: It was time I gave you a taste of what a Finchel show was like**.

The Barracks was a new, popular club in Queens, with a stage and a large open area in front, many tables, and excellent food. It was popular with musicians because the staff fed their acts well for free: New York had more than its share of starving artists.

Rachel, Finn, Clement and Eli were fooling around during the sound check. Eli had suggested they cover the Eagles' song "Tequila Sunrise" a few weeks back ("I think I sound a little like Glen Frey!"), and they had been experimenting with it a few times at practice. Rachel wanted to try it because her dads had given her a gorgeous Martin 12-string acoustic guitar for her birthday, and the song, with its rich, acoustic sound, would be perfect. She was strumming the melody, walking around the stage, laughing; Finn winked at her as he adjusted his kit. She looked amazing, he thought, hair down and wavy, in a burgundy low cut vest, black leggings and suede boots, topped by her old black leather jacket.

She threw him a smoky glance and went over to Clement, letting him add some ringing countryish electric fills, and Eli plugged in, joining them as well. Ally gave them a thumbs up from the tables.

"Everything is crisp and clear," she said, and the sound guy in the back nodded.

"Let's hear some drums," he asked. Finn obliged with a few beats of kick drum, which still needed a little punch, so he waited until they were satisfyingly loud, then added snare and tom-toms.

Everyone tried their mikes, and when the sound was just right, Rachel stepped up and began the song's smooth intro, Clement joining in with a sound like a pedal steel guitar, delicate and shimmering, paving the way for the rhythm section, Finn cross-sticking the snare with a wood block sound, and Eli weaving his bass line around it until everything settled into the classic song's easy rhythm. Eli began to sing, in a strong tenor:

_**It's another tequila sunrise,**_

_**Stirrin' slowly across the sky,**_

_**I said goodbye **_

_**He was just a hired hand,**_

_**Workin' on the dreams he planned to try,**_

_**The days go by.**_

Finn, Rachel and Clement carefully added a sweet harmony of _ooh's_ in the background as Finn switched to the high hat and Eli continued, eyes closed, concentrating:

_**Every night when the sun goes down,**_

_**Just another lonely boy in town,**_

All four of them joined in for the next line, hanging on the last syllable perfectly:

_**She's out runnin' round.**_

Finn returned to the cross-sticking as Eli continued:

_**She wasn't just another woman,**_

_**And I couldn't keep from comin' on,**_

_**It's been so long.**_

_**Oh and it's a hollow feelin',**_

_**When it comes down to dealin' friends,**_

_**It never ends.**_

Clement broke into a Latin-flavored solo around Rachel's firm rhythm, similar to the one on the original song but with his characteristic complexity. Everyone else exchanged grins as he killed it, and even he gave a small smile of satisfaction, handing the song back to Eli and the harmony _ooh's_:

_**Take another shot of courage,**_

_**Wonder why the right words never come,**_

_**You just get numb.**_

_**It's another tequila sunrise,**_

_**And this old world still looks the same,**_

_**Another frame.**_

They let the song run on for a few more bars, enjoying the rich sounds of the guitars and the rhythm, and when it ended, there were nods of satisfaction. Years of playing together, learning how to play off each other, made the run-through almost flawless.

Ally rushed up. "Damn! Why isn't this in your set list?"

"We could slip it in," Rachel said. "I could drop 'My Man'".

"Are you sure, Rach?" Finn looked dubious. She winked at him.

"Of course. It's not often Eli gets a chance to sing!" True enough. Eli groped in his pocket, pulled out a crumpled five dollar bill, and slipped it into Rachel's hand with a wink.

**XXXxxx**

The artist's prep room at The Barracks was actually comfortable, unlike many in which they had waited to go onstage. Two couches, a coffee table, and a cart with what they had actually asked for: bottles of chilled spring water, some fresh fruit, a bottle of brandy (a Finchel tradition, for the pre-show toast), and some bottles of Pilsner Urquell beer, coffee and tea with honey for afterwards.

Ally was with them, fussing over Clement's simple attire: a Madras-print short sleeved shirt, jeans and Converse low tops. Eli was a tad edgier, with a tight-fitting black Alien Sex Fiend t-shirt that showed off his buff torso ("to attract some attention" he joked) and sunglasses. Finn had a plain black t-shirt and faded jeans, topped with his trusty brown leather bomber jacket.

Rachel was in the same outfit from the sound check, slumped on the couch, eyes closed, going over lyrics in her head. She was anxious to sing the new song, a real rocker, a sure crowd-pleaser, she hoped. Her eyes opened and there was Finn, leaning with his back against the wall by the cart, eating orange slices, watching her. He winked and she blew him a kiss.

"Okay," Ally said, giving Clement one last approving glance. "I'm going to head out to my table. Knock em dead, guys." She kissed Clement on the way out and he watched her, pretty in her skinny jeans and black blazer, squeezing past the sound guy who had come to tell them five minutes.

Finn filled four glasses with brandy and handed them out as the others gathered around. Left hand over the right side of his chest, he toasted, "Here's to making them feel it," and all tossed back the brandy at once.

"Let's roll!" Eli said, and they filed out the door, Rachel and Finn holding hands up the stairs to the stage, and each carrying one bottle of water. They could hear the crowd, even recognize some of their longtime fans' voices.

"Break a leg," Finn whispered in Rachel's ear, and she quickly turned and kissed him, hard, eyes flashing. They listened to the owner introducing them:

"It's The Barracks' great pleasure to introduce one of our favorite bands tonight. We know they are one of yours. Please give a great hand for FINCHEL!" Loud applause, as Clement and Eli went out first, waving, then Finn over to his kit, some women screaming a little extra louder, and then Rachel slinking to the front, getting some wolf whistles of her own and giving back a sly, sexy grin.

"Good evening," she said, scanning the crowd while Clement and Eli plugged in, and Finn fiddled with his kit. "So glad you could join us." She couldn't see much of the crowd, only the ones standing close to the stage, really, many with their phones out, taking pictures. "We love playing here. For one thing, the owner, Bobby Azim, feeds the musicians very well. Even Finn was satisfied," she jerked her thumb behind her and Finn chuckled, "so please give Bobby a big hand!" Cheers and whistles as she blew a kiss towards Bobby in the wings.

She picked up her bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and took a swallow. "You know, we are truly blessed being able to buy clean water like this, or drink it whenever we want from the tap." She put the cap back on, continuing, "But many people in the world don't have that luxury." Knowledgeable fans began applauding; they knew what was coming. "Many people in sub-Saharan Africa have to struggle getting enough clean water to live, under governments who use what little water there is as political leverage. This song is for them." Finn started counting out, and the band kicked into a new, harder arrangement of "Jack and Jill" they had been experimenting with, one that rocked ferociously, and the crowd roared as Rachel and Finn practically screamed the chorus (along with many of their fans):

_**They promise us wells and they promise us peace**_

_**But our babies still die and the vultures still feast **_

_**And sometimes our love's all we have to survive**_

_**Doesn't anyone care if we get out alive? **_

Clement even extended his normal solo for the song, grinning as Rachel pretended to fan his guitar as his fingers flew over the frets, bringing even more response from the crowd, especially when Rachel flung off the leather jacket and finished up in the revealing vest, standing at the mike, legs apart, voice clear and strong.

"Thank you, thank you, you are all so kind," Rachel said, breathless, to the energized applause after the song. She looked down at the kids in front, many of their faces familiar from other shows, and winked. "Didn't expect that, did you?" Their delighted expressions told her that they were getting their money's worth already. Couldn't ask for much more than that, she thought.

Midway through the set it was time for the band introductions. These were choreographed to prepare for a performance of "Zambezi Lullaby".

"First off, " Rachel began beaming, "let's hear it for Eli Hersch on bass and vocals!" As the crowd cheered, Eli waved, placed his bass on the stand, and brought a high stool forward next to Rachel. He kissed her cheek, and walked off stage. She pretended to swoon.

"Next up, ladies and gentlemen: Finn Hudson on drums and vocals, and my songwriting partner!" More cheers and whistles and one girl yelled out "And your lover!" Rachel blushed as Finn left his kit and, bending down, kissed her deeply. She let him see her adoring look before he walked off., to appreciative hoots.

"And last but not least, Clement Atlee, on guitar and _nyatiti!_" She heard Ally's scream "Go Clement!" from out in the darkness as Clement brought a stool up with his _nyatiti. _He put his arm around her and kissed her cheek as well._ "_The inimitable Rachel Berry, folks," he said, and she bowed. When they were perched on their stools, Rachel introduced the song.

"Those of you who frequent our website," she pointed behind her to the screen with the URL displayed," know our dear friend Mercedes Jones deeply honored us by recording our song, 'Zambezi Lullaby', on her latest album, _No Backroom Belter_" (loud applause). She even got Clement to accompany her" (Ally's excited hoots brought chuckles). "We'd very much like to do that song for you. For our new fans, it's a lullaby sung by a mother to her son, who has returned after being a child-soldier in Mozambique. You can find links to organizations dedicated to helping former child-soldiers on our website."

The crowd quieted down, helped by knowledgeable fans who insisted others be silent. Clement began to delicately pluck the _nyatiti_, which sounded like a lyre, but also had an almost thumb-piano sound to it as well. The simple melody evoked another continent, another world; Rachel marveled at how Finn had come up with that. He said he had been listening to the Kenyan singer Ayub Ogada, and was inspired by his folk melodies and Rachel's lyrics. She started to sing, tears coming as she imagined the poor mother seeing her maimed son return, keeping her voice low and soothing, trying to become the moment:

_**Sleep now, my little one**_

_**Your road was long today**_

_**The red dust on your crutches**_

_**Can be easily wiped away **_

_**Unlike the scars the soldiers left **_

_**Just rest here now, I pray. **_

_**Hush now, my brave one**_

_**Let the river soothe your soul**_

_**May you grow to love its bounty**_

_**By its banks may you grow old**_

_**Let the reeds sing you to sleep at night**_

_**May you finally be made whole. **_

_**Forgive me please, my baby**_

_**Please end my sleepless nights**_

_**For letting them come and take you**_

_**And forcing you to fight**_

_**I bore you, please redeem me:**_

_**Rest here always in my sight.**_

As Clement's playing softly faded, the audience remained silent at first. Rachel and Clement looked at each other in amazement. The silence was longer than any time they had performed the song before. Panicking—had they hated it for some reason?—she looked down and saw tears streaming down a girl's face. Glancing at the wings she saw Finn, looking prouder than he ever had before, begin clapping slowly, joined by Eli. Scattered applause began beyond the lights, as the patrons realized that perhaps they had been transformed, and could only now express appreciation. It grew into a roar, and she took Clement's hand. They stood up and bowed deeply. "Thank, you, thank you so much", she said, overwhelmed.

Moments like this—connecting with an entire audience at such a deep level—were rare, rare enough to make her want to stop and just try and absorb what just happened. That was not possible, Rachel understood, so she settled for taking a longer drink of water and fiddling with her mike to compose herself before continuing. But she had to bring these people into this somehow, even if it was happening in just some club in Queens. Finn was feeling this too, she just knew it, as if she had antennae tuned to his heart, because their love revolved around music and the making of music as well as their adoration for one another.

"You are a very special audience," she managed to say, eyes glistening, hands clasped together. "You have made this night so special for us."

And the magic continued.

They had decided to save the new song for last. The crowd was excited and still-receptive. Rachel adored how their fans even liked the Broadway tunes (some complained that "My Man" had apparently been cut). The band was tired, but still running on adrenaline. She knew everyone had saved some energy for this.

"Thank you, thank you very much. You've been a great audience." She wiped her brow with her wrist, and leaned on the microphone stand for just a moment. Clement needed some time to retune and Finn was wiping his face with a towel. "You've worn us out," she joked. Some chuckles.

"A few months ago I caught a bug that was going around school, and had to stay home in bed a few days." A couple of people up front nodded their heads. "I know, that really sucked, right? Well, I was on the couch watching the Discovery Channel when Finn came home from work. He brought some soup with him." There were a few "awww's". "Anyways, after I ate, I fell asleep." She paused, and grinned. "This new song is the result of loving somebody and falling asleep watching too much Discovery Channel." That brought out some laughs and applause. "We hope you like it. It's called 'When the Lions Come'."

Finn counted in and Clement began with a slashing, loud intro, followed by Finn and Eli anchoring his electric wailing. Rachel stood at the microphone until they locked into an irresistible, power-chord groove, then jumped into the lyrics, delivering them with her trademark, polished, roar:

_**You caught me gazing at the setting sun**_

_**After you said I was the only one**_

_**I knew the score**_

_**We heard the roar**_

_**There was a struggle at the water hole **_

_**You said the water's where the danger lies **_

_**You tried to keep me safe from prying eyes**_

_**I didn't shrink **_

_**I left to drink **_

_**No haven for me when the lions come**_

Her eyes flashed as the guys joined in for the hook-laden chorus:

_**When the lions come**_

_**When the lions come**_

_**There ain't no shelter when the lions come**_

_**When the lions come**_

_**When the lions come**_

_**No time for praying when the lions come **_

Clement screamed out a solo as Rachel roamed the stage, microphone in hand, waiting. He took a few extra bars to hammer it home before she hit the bridge:

_**My Daddy raised me with a mind of my own**_

_**But I was too much like the seeds he had sown**_

_**You said you loved me and you begged me to stay**_

_**You couldn't save me at the end of the day**_

The audience's blood was up, and over the monitors Rachel could hear them cheering and stomping. She glanced back at Finn, pounding away, eyes locked on her, so she swung her hips at him wickedly, licking her lips.

_**I drink my fill down at the glittering pool **_

_**And know you think this was the act of a fool**_

_**I couldn't lie**_

_**Just had to try**_

_**To beat the vultures when the lions come**_

It was time for the bone crunching finale, all four of them belting out the final chorus, Rachel's fist pumping the air:

_**When the lions come**_

_**When the lions come**_

_**No regrets, baby when the lions come**_

_**When the lions come**_

_**When the lions come**_

_**Try not to listen when the lions come**_.

Clement, Eli and Finn finished with a wild flourish as Rachel danced with them, hair flying, eyes wild, and the amped-up crowd roared its approval.

They held hands at the edge of the stage, bowing, and basking in the applause, and Rachel started giggling, remembering what she had told Finn about her being like Tinkerbelle.

"Thank you, thank you all," she said, "It's nights like this, and audiences like this, that we live for. Good night!" and she clung to Finn as they walked off the stage, knowing full well they still had their standard encore number, "Faithfully", to do, plus another set, but already knowing this had been one of the best nights of her life.

**A/N2: Lyrics from "Tequila Sunrise" were written by Glen Frey and Don Henley. The lyrics to "Jack and Jill", "Zambezi Lullaby", and "When the Lions Come", are my own. **

**Reviews welcome!**


	5. Chapter 5

They had an hour and a half before the next set. Maddie had texted Finn, telling him she'd be at the bar with a friend. He found her talking with a guy, drinking a beer. She was dressed differently than at school: a short gray skirt, with a tight black t-shirt, tights and flats. He laughed to himself—she was wearing a red-and-black plaid tam-o-shanter. It was like seeing Rachel in high school. Her friend was in jeans and a old gray sweater. He shook hands.

"Finn Hudson, this Paul Murphy, " Maddie said. "He's a fellow math major I ran into here by chance!"

"Great show, man," Paul said, "You guys rocked."

"Thanks!" Finn was pleased. "Glad you came to see us." He looked over at Maddie. "If you like, we're in the band room if you want to talk before the next set, or—" He felt awkward, not wanting to interrupt what she had been doing with her friend. "- we can meet after that, like I said before..."

Maddie looked at Paul and then at Finn, and laughed. "No, it's okay! Paul's here with a group of his friends. I'd love to meet with you guys now!"

"Yeah, it's cool," Paul said. "Nice to meet you. And again—great show!" He turned to go, "So, Maddie—you'll run the next study group, then?" She nodded. "Cool." He smiled. "Hope it works out with the singing gig."

"Thanks. See ya."

"You guys were great tonight," Maddie said, following Finn to the band room. "The crowd ate it up."

"It was a good night, yeah," Finn agreed. "So, you're going to lead a study group?"

She looked at him. "Yeah. Paul and I are minoring in Actuarial Math, and our group is for a class in Statistical Inference."

"Um, sorry I asked."

She giggled. "Actuaries make big bucks, son." She looked fresh and pretty, resembling, in the dim club light, the actress Jena Malone. It was quite a different look than the sultry, sensual appearance she projected onstage, or the bookish, emo librarian at school.

"Is that what you want to be?"

"No, not necessarily. My mom is an actuary. I kinda inherited the math thing from her, and she told me, with my aptitude, being an actuary would be a great fallback skill. Insurance companies are always looking for good ones."

They negotiated around the last table and crossed the open area.

"Do you like actuarial math?"

"Yeah, I do." Maddie nodded. "But I like music too. And I hate wearing women's suits."

She seemed relaxed. Finn liked that. If she was nervous about meeting the band, it certainly didn't show. He opened the door.

Clement, who had to keep playing between sets ("To stay loose," he claimed), was fooling around with his Strat, working out the dreamy melody for Hendrix's "Hey Baby (New Rising Sun)". Rachel was drinking tea with honey on the couch, and watching him with Eli and Ally as he crooned the lyrics in a soft voice, playing pretty, spacey fills around the words:

_**Hey, Baby... where do you come from?  
Well she looked at me and smiled and looked into Space...  
and said, "I'm comin' from the land of a new Rising Sun."**_

Then I said, "Hey Baby, where ya tryin' to go to?"  
Then she says, "I'm gonna spin and spread around Peace of Mind...  
and a whole lotta Love to you and you!"

_**Hey, Girl! I'd like to come along!  
Yes, I'd like to come along!  
"Would you like to come along?" she asked me.  
Yes take me along, right now!  
Hey Baby, can I step into your World a while?**_

He stopped as everyone looked up at Finn and Maddie standing in the doorway.

"Guys," Finn said ushering her inside, "This is Maddie Pennington."

"Hi," she said, with a little wave, now seeming to be a bit shy. Everyone waved back.

Finn went around the room. "This is Clement Atlee, his girlfriend Ally Mason, Eli Hersch, and my Rachel."

Maddie didn't waste any time, rushing up to Rachel. "You were great, Rachel! Great stage presence."

"Thanks," Rachel said, making room on the couch." We've seen you perform. You're no slouch, either."

Maddie seemed embarrassed as she sat down. "It's been a while since I sang. I miss it." She looked at Clement. "I love that song you were playing just now. It's one of my favorite Hendrix tunes. Well, the live version at Berkeley, that is."

Clement smiled in pleased surprise—he was a hardcore Hendrix fan. "Me too," he said. Rachel glanced at Finn and he winked.

Eli sat forward on the other couch. "So, do you think you want to sing with us? I mean, Tell Any Indian's music wasn't much like ours."

Maddie laughed. "Yeah, that's true. But most of the songs weren't written by me. The lead guitarist was my boyfriend at the time, and Tell Any Indian was mostly his vision." She paused, looking down. "That vision died when he found heroin. Personally, I love your music. That new song rocked!"

Rachel offered her some tea with honey. "God, that's good!" Maddie said, rubbing her throat.

She told them a little about herself.

Maddie was from Pawtucket, Rhode Island. Her mother was an actuary for an insurance company. She was a baby when her father died, and she loved and admired her stepfather, a cellist in the Rhode Island Philharmonic. She had a younger stepsister, a sophomore at Roger Williams University.

"Why'd you come to New York?" Rachel asked.

"Have you ever been to Pawtucket?" Maddie retorted, and Rachel chuckled.

"Point taken. Same for Lima, Ohio."

"I can't believe you guys actually survived being raised in those places," Eli said.

"Says the guy from _Hoboken_," Finn shot back. Ally giggled.

"I like your outfit," Rachel told Maddie. "But it's a lot different from your stage persona."

"I'll say," Maddie said. "On stage, I kinda wanted to project a Juliet Lewis vibe, you know? From that movie, _Strange Days_?"

Nobody seemed to have seen it.

"That's okay," Rachel whispered in her ear. "It did get the guys' pulses racing."

"I don't think that look works for Finchel, though," Maddie said, and, as Eli's face fell, she grinned, adding, "If I get the gig, I'll come up with something good, like yours, Rachel. I'm digging your Chrissy-Hynde-sexy-vest look."

"We're having a band practice Monday evening," Finn said. Does that work for you as an audition time? I know you have that school job."

"That's fine. Where?"

"Since we're all students, we get the large rehearsal room after hours."

"Sweet!"

"Are you going to hang around for the second set?" Rachel asked. "We can get you a pass.

"That'd be great!" Maddie paused, still looking shy. "Do you think I could sing with you on the chorus for the new song?"

Rachel looked around—everyone nodded. "Sure!"

Soon it was time to start the second set, and, back onstage, Rachel looked down to see Ally and Maddie up front, acting like a couple of fangirls. She turned to Finn and pointed at the two of them, watching him laugh, then to some kids she recognized from the first set. "Hardcore fans," she said approvingly, "We love you guys."

The set was as well-received as the first. Everyone was tired, yet invigorated: Finchel had been as tight as ever. As they prepared to play "When the Lions Come," Rachel nodded to Maddie, who made her way to the stage while Rachel told her little story about the song. Then she gave the audience her biggest smile.

"For this song, we'd also like to introduce a special guest. Some of you might remember her as the lead vocalist for the band Tell Any Indian." There were scattered cheers and applause. "She was gracious enough to help us out tonight on our new song. Everybody welcome Maddie Pennington!"

The response was warm as Maddie walked out on stage. She made a point to shake Eli's, Finn's and Clement's hands, then joined Rachel at her mike. The two women hugged each other and got ready as Finn counted out.

During the verses Maddie swayed like a professional background vocalist, smiling at everyone, but attentively watching Rachel, until it was time, and then expertly blended her close, darker harmony in with Rachel, giving the chorus an additional haunting richness. During Clement's solo she danced with Rachel for the crowd, which was hooting and hollering its approval. At the end of the song she linked arms with Rachel opposite Finn for the group bow.

"I could get used to this," she said.

After the show, Maddie begged off going to Finn and Rachel's. "I'm going to curl up with your website and look over some lyrics. I know the song I have in mind for the audition, I just want to make sure I know them in my sleep."

Finn gave her a hug. "Thanks for coming, and we'll see you on Monday!" Rachel took over from him with her own hug. "You sounded fantastic! I can't wait!" She got similar treatment from Clement and Eli, with Eli winking and suggesting she show up with an idea for her stage outfit, to which Rachel objected, but Maddie just laughed.

"Sure, man," she said. "I'll see what I can come up with."

Since Ally was here for the weekend, they all decided to pass on the after-show drink and everyone but Finn and Rachel headed back to the dorms (Eli had sleeping arrangements with a buddy). They offered Maddie a ride back in the van and she accepted. Rachel got changed and she and Finn decided to walk home, since The Barracks was only three-quarters-of-mile or so from the apartment, and the weather was mild.

Both of them were still wired. They talked about the song, weaving hand-in-hand through the remaining nighthawks that populated the Queens sidewalks late on a Saturday.

"Now that we have it audience-vetted," Finn said, "I think we have a real winner."

"Me too," Rachel replied. "I think we should suggest sending a demo to Del Cantor at the band meeting tomorrow." He was a producer Mercedes had recommended contacting when they had some new work.

"Yeah." Finn stopped. "You killed it tonight, Rach. You had those kids from the very first note." She kissed him for that.

"Thanks, babe. You weren't too shabby yourself. Don't think I didn't see you recover that stick you lost." They started walking again. "That took some serious flexibility. I expect to be the beneficiary of that when we get home."

She knew he loved her sexy banter. It hadn't always been like that, especially in high school. It wasn't because she was prudish or old-fashioned. Far from it. It was just that she had felt she had to be overwhelmingly guarded about sexual talk with Finn in public because of the ridicule, so much so that she found it difficult to be any other way when they were completely alone—which wasn't very often. She felt she couldn't afford to be complacent. Fortunately, Finn understood, and Rachel never held back physically with Finn when they did make love in high school. They were just very circumspect talking about it out loud. All of that changed the day they left Lima together in his truck. The break with their childhood home was more than just physical for them. That day represented the moment their lives were their own to control. It was their Independence Day, which they celebrated conscientiously. It was the day that their bond fully flowered, and on that first anniversary, Finn symbolized it by giving her a dozen greenhouse-grown tulips, and also gave her bulbs to plant in their tiny flower box. She also whispered to him, on the first night they made love in New York, that she had meant everything she said at that Celibacy Club Meeting so long ago, and now, finally, felt free enough to follow-through in every way. He, in turn, blossomed in confidence once they were able to practice regularly.

"I hope Maddie works out," Rachel said, about a quarter-mile from home. "She's professional. I want to hear more of her voice, but she gives me a good vibe."

"Me too." Finn grew thoughtful. "She's also pretty tough. The band and her personal life splintered at the same time, yet she seems like she weathered it okay. I mean, she seems fairly normal. And get this:" he chuckled, "I saw her checking out Eli when he wasn't looking."

"Oh my God," Rachel laughed, "I saw him giving her the onceover when she crossed her legs on the couch."

She pulled closer to him as they walked; glad to have found the one person she wanted to be with in the entire world. It was clear Ally and Clement had a similar relationship, made even more special by the fact it had been long-distance for four years. She was convinced the stability of the two relationships had helped Finchel's stability as well. But she didn't worry about the possibility of a Maddie/Eli relationship. He was easy-going and definitely not a douche, but he wasn't a pushover, either. And Eli was professional with regard to the band. Maddie appeared to be a pro as well. So odds were any relationship drama, assuming it ever came down to that, would not harm the band itself.

"Finn?"

"Yes?"

"I'm glad how everything has worked out for us here."

"Me too."

"In fact, I'm so happy right now I may not even write that autobiography."

He stopped and pulled her around to look in her face.

"What?" That seemed so…un-Rachel Berry.

"Well, it's been pretty much a happy ending since a year after we moved to New York, baby. And it's your fault. Who wants an autobiography that's almost all me describing how happy I was?"

"Well, rats," Finn said. "I was so counting on a signed copy."

"Actually, come to think of it, I will have to write it after all."

He grinned. "What changed your mind?" She took his arm, and they started to walk again.

"I want the world to know that I dedicated a book about my life to you."

"You are so getting lucky when we get home."

Rachel smiled.

**A/N: Lyrics are from "Hey Baby (New Rising Sun)", by Jimi Hendrix**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Warning—Dear readers, most of my stories are rated M because I'm writing about adults and deal with mature themes. I have never written anything explicitly sexual before (though I have skirted it). I've been an admirer of dharkephoenyx's stories for this type of story (and highly recommend her work in general), and decided to give it a try. So, the first section of this chapter will be more explicit than usual. For those readers not interested in this kind of thing, please skip to the next section of the chapter (and hopefully don't hold it against me). For those readers willing to indulge me, I'd appreciate feedback. Thanks- OH **

**XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx**

Rachel awoke the next morning after a particularly vivid erotic dream. It was similar in overall theme to some others she had experienced since leaving Lima with Finn, but this was notable for its level of sensory realism. She stretched luxuriantly in the bed like a cat, naked, listening to Finn in the kitchen making coffee, remembering. The dream had left her with that delicious aching, wet feeling between her legs, so she writhed onto her side, knees bent, squeezing her thighs together in hopes the pressure could help ease the want until Finn got back. It helped somewhat; at least it settled the faint dropping feeling in her stomach. She clasped her hands together, holding them between her knees, because all they wanted to do was run all over her breasts, which could only make the aching exquisitely worse. And her scent was filling the room. Good Lord, she pleaded, eyes squeezed closed, please make that coffee brew faster.

The prop room at McKinley smelled dusty and the floor was probably filthy, but it was secluded. Finn was sort of sitting/leaning against a table, jeans and briefs around his ankles, with Rachel before him, on her knees, resting on Finn's letterman jacket, spread out chivalrously for her on the floor.

He was in her mouth.

She was aware some people didn't think she was even willing to consider oral sex with her boyfriend. After all, it's not like she hadn't heard just about every Jewish-American-Princess joke while growing up.

_**Q: What do you get when you cross a Jewish-American-Princess with a computer? **_

_**A: A system that never goes down on you. **_

So Rachel would be the first to admit that, initially, her willingness to pleasure Finn this way had been partially driven by the desire to counteract an ethnic stereotype. How Finn had laughed when she, in all seriousness, actually explained that to him. "I'm proud to help fight bigotry any way I can, babe", he had said, with a wink. But she had also come to enjoy giving Finn oral sex on her own. Rachel liked the sensation of Finn in her mouth, and appreciated him taking such pleasure at her technique (she loved him, after all). Perfectionist that she was, Rachel was also always interested in ways to improve her craft. She also once told him that her being Jewish made her appreciate Finn being circumcised all the more. He didn't seem to know how to answer that, settling for a grin that sent a glorious warmth directly to her loins.

Her left hand grasped Finn's cock firmly at the base, as she gently sucked on the tip, her tongue pressing the head up against the contours of the roof of her mouth. She had been surprised how enjoyable it had been to feel him in her mouth for the first time. After all, she had nothing in her previous experience with which to compare it. All those suggestive scenes in films with carrots and popsicles and lollipops—please. Her Finn was nothing like that: he was hard and soft at the same time, and warm, and clean-tasting. Bigger than she expected, but not frighteningly so; her only other experience with aroused men had been with Puck and Jesse, and she never actually saw either's member outside of the bulges they produced, and had only felt them pressed against her. Her impression was that Finn had them beat in that department, and not by a small margin, something that gave her untold satisfaction. And his genitals had this faint, musky, but clean scent (even after a shower) that she found irresistible. She pressed her knees together in desire.

Finn's head dropped back in pleasure, his hands gripping the table's edge (he had pleasantly surprised her from the beginning by never grabbing and pushing her head down, as she had been led to expect men to do). Rachel pulled away for a moment, pumping him as she brushed her hair back with her right hand. She glanced up to see him smile when she rubbed his cock against her cheek with a tiny moan before licking the head. She liked its soft firmness, especially where her inquisitive tongue encountered the slight roughness along the outside edge. She breathed in the scent from his pubic hair and sighed. He didn't see her quick additional glance upwards at first, because his eyes were squeezed shut, but they did open for an instant before she turned to take him in her mouth again, and he matched her lazy, sexy grin.

Her head bobbed up and down, alternating sucking and licking, faster and faster, to their quickened breathing. "Mmmmmmm" she hummed. Finn's eyes closed again, and his grip on the table tightened. She ratcheted up the tension by delicately taking one of his testicles between her thumb and forefinger, carefully rolling it between them, enjoying its exquisite, silky smoothness, and the way it seemed to come alive in her hand and make Finn moan in ecstasy. He was close now, she knew, his breath coming in gasps. She also knew she didn't have to go all deep throat on him, despite what Emma Pilsbury had thought about her lack of gag reflex. He was her Finn, and she paid attention to the things that gave him pleasure, and she knew that whole deep throat thing didn't do as much for him as what she was focused on doing right now: tonguing, sucking, and even gently biting, bringing him to the brink. And she let him know that she loved having him in her mouth, adored it when her lips and tongue detected his pulse, and would welcome his essence when the moment came because she loved him fiercely, and this was something that was hers alone, something that bitch Santana had never managed to spoil.

And she knew he loved her there, on her knees in that pretty yellow sleeveless dress and the white knee socks, because she was his Rachel and he was her Finn and there was nothing one would not do for the other.

She almost had him there, sucking steadily, tasting him, relishing him. Both of his testicles were in her hand now, squeezed together ever so gently. She felt them begin to contract in her hand, a sign he was about to come, and a wet heat began rapidly pooling between her thighs. Her whole body trembled with pleasure and anticipation as her tongue, lips and hands pushed Finn to the point of no return. Such an exquisite moment; that sense of having set everything in motion, and which now could not be stopped. He moaned. She let her eyes close, yearning to receive him.

Of course, that was the moment, just as his spasms began, when the door was flung open behind her.

Rachel flicked her eyes open without letting Finn go, and could see the entire Glee club in a mirror hanging behind Finn. There was only time to see a few shocked looks before she had more important things to do. Finn gasped loudly, testicles contracting even more, as she felt the first warm spurt in her mouth. She murmured something incomprehensible, not caring what the hell any of the others saw, swallowing quickly as Finn spasmed again, and again. Rachel paused until he relaxed, then gently, lovingly, mouthed him clean, like she always did.

She looked in the mirror again, still stroking and sucking Finn as he shudderingly came to his senses. The others stood there, gaping. No one said a word, but she could feel the collective judgment. She didn't turn around, defiantly determined to finish, and awaited the inevitable abuse.

And this is what Rachel absolutely loved about the dream: she glanced up at Finn, whose eyes were open now. They held not one trace of shock or embarrassment. Finn simply stared at them with half-lidded eyes, saying nothing, _daring_ them to say anything. She finished up, smacking her lips as she slowly let Finn pop out of her mouth, and, looking over her shoulder, still holding his glistening cock in her hand, gave them the same, pleasured gaze. The others seemed hypnotized.

"Can we help you?" she asked.

"Whoah!" Finn had returned with the coffee, only to find Rachel splayed out naked on the bed, eyeing him sultrily.

She got him to put the coffee and the newspaper aside when she raised up on her hands and knees and yanked his pajama bottoms down.

"I had a dream last night," she said, pulling him down to her. "I need you to help me finish it."

**XXXXxxxxx**

They had everything set up when Maddie arrived Monday night. She poked her head around the door, then sauntered in, wearing a black trench coat, stiletto-heeled black ankle boots and silky tights.

"Hey guys." She took off the coat, revealing a fitted man's pale-green plaid Pendleton shirt, about a size too large. It fit her 5-foot-seven, slender frame like a short dress, and the heeled boots and black tights made it look as if she was nothing but legs.

She struck a pose and looked squarely at Eli. "This good enough?" she asked, arching her eyebrows. Eli just nodded, grinning, and Rachel couldn't help but add, "It's great! Sexy emo librarian chic."

Maddie laughed, nodding. "Yeah…I like that."

"I got your email," Finn said, "and we liked your choices. Do you want to do 'Hero' first?"

"Sounds good," she said, stepping in front of the mike. "But here, wait a minute…" She turned the microphone stand around so that she faced them. "That's better."

"I really love this song," she said, picking up a tambourine and nodding to Finn, who started the slow, spare beat with two beats of the kick drum followed by a cross-stick rap on the snare's rim, then two more kick drum beats, repeated over and over:

_**Dum-Dum DAH Dum-Dum, Dum-Dum DAH Dum-Dum **_

After a few bars, Clement joined in with metallic-sounding accents, Eli tracking the kick drum, and Rachel swaying at the keyboards, but not playing. Maddie's body began to move sinuously, eyes closed, hitting the tambourine on the last beat of the pattern. When she was ready, she opened her eyes, moved up to the microphone, and began to sing in a low, pleading voice:

_**Save me Lord, oh save me please**_

_**I've met my hero, I'm on my knees**_

_**My wish fulfilled, the die is cast**_

_**Please stop me trying to make it last**_

She smiled for a few beats, and continued, with Rachel accenting each clipped syllable with the piano:

_**So sweet and kind**_

_**And I lost my mind**_

_**It was all I dreamed**_

_**But it cannot...be what it seems.**_

On the second verse she began to sway and sing. Finn and Rachel looked at each other and smiled, nodding. Eli seemed transfixed. The band was tight, caught up in the hypnotic rhythm:

_**Too good for you I heard them say**_

_**A wonder he's not run away**_

_**I know there's something wrong with me**_

_**Eventually he'll come to see **_

_**And I'll be alone**_

_**Silent as a stone**_

_**At least he'll be free**_

_**Salvation...freedom from me.**_

Clement took off with a strange, dark, loud solo, and Maddie raised her arms out straight from her body, eyes closed, swaying and turning, like a slowed-down dervish. Then she moved around the stage, swinging her hips, past Finn, pausing in front of Eli, who grinned evilly, then around Rachel before making it back to the mike as Clement nodded to her, ending the solo. She eased into the last verse:

_**Oh save him Lord, oh save him please**_

_**He's met his heroine, he's on his knees**_

_**His wish fulfilled, the deed is done**_

_**Please let him see I'm not the one**_

_**'Cause his heart's unspoiled **_

_**Not forever soiled**_

_**May he never be**_

_**Heartbroken…**_

She let the beat go several bars, bowing her head before finally crimping the song off with:

_**...because of me. **_

She looked up with a grin. "That was fun," she said.

"It was more than fun," Rachel said, rushing up to hug her. "It was GREAT!" Maddie laughed. Eli clapped.

"You caught the mood of that song perfectly," Finn remarked.

"I'm still not sure what it means," Maddie said. "Rachel, you tell the crowd that it's some kind of twisted take on the old saying about not wanting to meet your heroes, right?"

Rachel nodded, but Eli cut her off.

"They never told us what that song means." He gave Finn an exaggerated hard look.

"You haven't?" Maddie didn't seem surprised.

"I don't think it has any one particular meaning," Rachel said. "I remember us just playing with the idea of meeting your hero and it not going well, and Finn had this idea of it happening simultaneously to two people."

"What do you think it means?" Finn asked Maddie.

"Beats me," she shrugged, opening Eli's bottle of water and taking a sip. He could see she decided to hold back her opinion. "But I like it."

"Okay," Clement said, "let's try the second song." It was their cover of The Band's eerie "King Harvest (Has Surely Come)". He sang lead on it, and liked Maddie's choice because she said she wanted to show them her organ chops, and it freed Rachel to play piano.

They discussed the song for a few minutes.

"I like the way the song evokes the past," she said. "And it has some spooky imagery."

Clement nodded. "Eli thinks The Band was transported here from the 19th Century," he laughed, and at Maddie's intrigued glance over at Eli, added, "He's quite the fan. In fact, he was the one who suggested we do it."

Eli blushed. "It's one of my favorite songs," he confessed. "And not just for the sweet bass part."

"It does have a pretty unique structure," Maddie agreed. She went to her bag and pulled out the sheet music. "The toughest part about the song for me is how my right hand has to closely track that quirky bass line." She looked over at Eli. "Do you mind if you and I practice that synchronization first? I'd hate to fuck up the audition."

"Can't have you do _that_," Eli joked. She walked up to their Hammond dual-keyboard organ, fiddled a bit, made some noises, and flexed her fingers. Eli came up behind her and she pointed to the place where she wanted them to start. He smiled and jumped in to the highly-syncopated bass line. Maddie tried to blend in, but it was too fast at first, turning into a jumbled mess. They both laughed, then slowed everything until she had the pattern down, then sped up and it was perfect. They didn't even notice the others, who watched them blend seamlessly with amusement.

"Okay, "Maddie said, looking up. "I think I'm ready." Everyone took their places, and Clement and Maddie began with the quick guitar/organ opening, then faded out as Finn took over with just some cymbal work, Clement and Eli providing quiet support, and everyone leaned in to sing, very softly, in almost a low moan, the opening lines:

_**Corn in the field, **_

_**Listen to the rice when the wind blows 'cross the water,**_

_**King Harvest has surely come**_

And Finn kicked in with the strong beat as Eli and Maddie symbiotically tracked the edgy, syncopated bass line, and Clement took to the mike:

_**I work for the union 'cause she's so good to me;**_

_**And I'm bound to come out on top,**_

_**That's where she said I should be**_

The pace picked up:

_**I will hear every word the boss may say,**_

_**For he's the one who hands me down my pay**_

_**Looks like this time I'm gonna get to stay,**_

_**I'm a union man, now, all the way**_

And back to the soft whispers:

_**The smell of the leaves,**_

_**From the magnolia trees in the meadow,**_

_**King Harvest has surely come**_

Rachel threw Finn a glance as Maddie and Eli took off again, closely watching each other:

_**A dry summer, then come fall,**_

_**Which I depend on most of all**_

_**Hey, rainmaker, can you hear the call?**_

_**Please let these crops grow tall!**_

_**Long enough I've been up on Skid Row**_

_**And it's plain to see, I've nothin' to show**_

_**I'm glad to pay those union dues,**_

_**Just don't judge me by my shoes**_

Maddie beamed at Rachel. She looked like she was having the time of her life. And the voices dropped again for the verse that always reminded Rachel of Halloween:

_**A scarecrow and a yellow moon,**_

_**Pretty soon, the carnival on the edge of town,**_

_**King Harvest has surely come**_

Clement's voice got even more plaintive, as the farmer became more desperate:

_**Last year, this time, wasn't no joke,**_

_**My whole barn went up in smoke**_

_**My horse Jethro, well, he went mad**_

_**And I can't ever remember things bein' that bad**_

_**Now here comes a man with a paper and pen**_

_**Tellin' us our hard times are about to end **_

_**And then, if they don't give us what we like**_

_**He said, "Men, that's when you gotta go on strike!"**_

And the last, moaned verse:

_**Corn in the fields**_

_**Listen to the rice when the wind blows 'cross the water,**_

_**King Harvest has surely come **_

Clement finished the song off with a fine, staccato solo against Eli and Finn's jumpy rhythm section, Rachel's piano, and Maddie's organ.

Maddie looked down shyly, but everyone could see she had been pleased with the sound. "What do you think?" she asked, in a small voice.

Finn looked at Clement and Rachel, who nodded vigorously, and then to Eli. "Dude!" he exclaimed. "Are you kidding? Hells yeah!"

"Looks like you've got the job, if you want it," Finn said.

"Really? Oh my God!" Maddie actually looked relieved, which was strange, considering how confident she had appeared before.

She hugged everyone, but couldn't hide how she lingered, ever so subtly, with Eli's. Finn mentioned that they usually went out for pizza after band practice, so she'd better get used to it. "Do you like veggie pizza?" Rachel asked, hopefully. She brightened when Maddie nodded. "Will you share one with me? Finn will love you forever for it!"

He rolled his eyes. "I never minded sharing with you," he said.

Rachel wrapped her arms around his neck and stood on her tiptoes for a kiss. "I know," she murmured, "And I love you for it. But I also know how you love sausage and mushroom pizza."

"Glad I can help with the domestic bliss," Maddie commented wryly. "I'm starving!"

**A/N2: Lyrics for "Hero" are mine. Lyrics for "King Harvest (Has Surely Come)" are by Robbie Robertson**.


	7. Chapter 7

Maddie was passing by one of the student lounges in the dorm complex when she saw Eli and Clement sitting in armchairs. She approached them.

"Have you guys had lunch?" It was 11:45.

Clement laughed. "We were just talking about that."

"We were about to go to grab a sandwich at Dooley's," said Eli, obviously pleased to see her. "Come join us?"

"Thanks." She didn't want to cook anything in her room (the dorm was actually more like an apartment complex, with kitchens in each "room". The lack of a communal dining area was one reason she had managed to never run into Clement or Eli before).

Dooley's was a block away. "Man, you look different," Eli remarked, along the way. Maddie was dressed in her standard old plaid shirt and skinny jeans, with the obligatory beat-up black converse low tops, and black squared-off glasses.

"You think I dress up like Monday night all of the time?"

"Well, no—"

She felt playful, and in her best Joe Pesci/Cousin Vinny accent, looked sexily at Eli and said, "I wore dat ridiculous thing for youse." Clement laughed loudly.

"Hey!" Eli protested, "You look fine now, just… different." He paused and gave her an appreciative onceover. "You're rocking the K-Stew look. Only with a smile."

She eyed him back, causing Clement to roll his, then laughed gaily, having fun.

Dooley's was a deli, and Maddie noticed Clement ordered a BLT, while Eli went for the full corned beef. Both ordered ginger beer. She chose a roast-beef-and swiss with a root beer, and sat opposite Eli and Clement at the table. They talked about life in Finchel.

"So Finn and Rachel do all the songwriting?"

"Yep," Eli nodded. "Clement and I always wanted to start a band, but weren't interested in writing songs. We ran into Finn in class, and found out he and Rachel had written and performed songs before, so we asked him if he was interested in forming a band with us. Then he dragged us home with him one night and introduced us to Rachel."

"But the band is called 'Finchel', for both of them. How did that come about?"

The two guys smiled at each other simultaneously. "Eli suggested the name."

"It had a good sound. And everything Clement and I came up with before sounded stupid or weird, like 'Sonic Berserker', or even worse."

"Could you imagine a band with our sound called 'Mass Extinction'?" Clement asked, and Maddie shook her head. "'Finchel' doesn't influence anybody's expectations." He paused. "And there's something about Finn and Rachel that's, well, special."

Yes, there was, apparently. She could see it in their faces, this deep respect. It intrigued her.

"They're high school sweethearts, right, like you and Ally?"

"Yeah," said Clement. "But with a more epic background." He went on to describe how Finn had been the popular quarterback and Rachel the talented but friendless outcast, at a high school that could be accurately described as Dickensian in its awfulness.

"A teacher, the head of the school's Glee Club, blackmailed Finn into joining the club by planting pot in his locker."

"Bullshit." She wasn't buying that at all.

"No, it's true. Finn's stepbrother confirmed that with us once."

"And he met Rachel in the club?"

"Finn says she freaked him out at first, because she was so high-strung and intense. But he says she had him the moment he heard her sing."

"Go on." She was hooked now.

Eli and Clement summarized Rachel and Finn's story.

"Their 'friends' were convinced they'd never make anything of themselves," Clement continued, "especially when Rachel didn't get into NYADA here in New York, and Finn didn't get a football scholarship. Everyone was flabbergasted when, right after graduation, they just said 'Fuck It', piled their stuff into Finn's truck and came here with no job prospects or anything."

Maddie sat back. It was clear that all the members of Finchel actually liked each other. That was refreshing. Tell Any Indian had seethed with conflicting egos and resentments. "So I'm kinda jumping into a pretty tightly-knit band. I hope I don't mess things up."

"I think," Clement said, "You'll find we're a bit different. Certainly different than Tell Any Indian. You guys were so intense."

"Yeah," Eli jumped in. "Tell us about what being in that band was like."

"It was intimidating. Jack Harvey, the lead guitarist, was brilliant. He and Daryl, the other guitarist, would just get wailing together, the rhythm section sometimes couldn't keep up. Hell, I had trouble too. They were the main songwriters, and it was real work to handle the stuff they came up with. And some of the members actually despised each other. "

"We never noted any problems at that show we saw," Eli said. Then he softened. "How are Jack and Daryl doing? Finn said they got into smack." A shadow passed over her face, and Eli added, "I'm sorry, it must be painful."

"I can talk about it now," she said, with a small smile for him. "Jack's on the West Coast somewhere, nobody knows for sure. I had to accept that, between me and heroin, I came in a distant second. Daryl was in rehab in Pennsylvania, last I heard. Bob and Jerry play with Plausible Deniability now."

"I love that band!" Clement exclaimed.

"Too bad they laughed at me when I suggested they could use a female singer," Maddie said.

"Their loss, our gain." Eli grinned at her. She liked that they made her feel welcome, and she said so.

"Thanks, guys. I hope it works out. Your music and cover choices are right up my alley. Except the Broadway stuff." She winked.

The guys took what she said in the spirit in which it was given. Rachel rocked the Broadway numbers, and Maddie had no desire to try them. End of story.

Clement got up. "I gotta go. Have to meet my guitar prof." He grinned at Maddie. "You guys stay. See you! "

Maddie looked at Eli. He seemed embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

"Well, that was subtle," he commented. But his gaze was steady and interested. So was hers.

"So, what's your story, Eli?"

"What story? I'm just a kid from Hoboken."

Maddie leaned across the table conspiratorially, holding his gaze with an intrigued smile.

"That is so _not_ what I heard," she said.

**XXXXxxxxxxx **

Wednesdays were long days for Maddie. On top of classes and a group study session was her evening shift at the library. She was filing her last cart of books in the far corner when she heard voices murmuring two aisles over. They seemed to be coming up from the floor. Please let it not be someone making out- or worse. Her cart was almost empty, and she didn't need to have to confront somebody about breaking the rules about fucking in the stacks.

She continued down her aisle, figuring to get to theirs soon enough. Hopefully they'd hear her coming and stop. But now she could recognize what was being said, and who was saying it.

"I can't believe we're doing this." It was Rachel. Maddie paused, now wondering what to do.

"You said you enjoyed and appreciated it!" Finn.

"I know…" In the quiet of the library Maddie heard the unmistakable sound of a slow, passionate kiss. Then:

"What ever happened to that snow globe?"

"It's in a box somewhere. We can look for it when we get home. Why?"

"I reminds me of that moment, seeing you hiding, sitting on the floor in the stacks, staring at that globe, thinking-"

"—thinking how I screwed up." Maddie listened closer, almost holding her breath. Part of her wanted to just continue filing, to give them the chance to hear her and keep what they wanted private to remain that way. After her conversation with Eli and Clement, however, Maddie was intensely curious about their relationship, one that garnered so much respect. Not in a perverted way. She still hurt from ending it with Jack despite being certain it had been for her own good. There was always present the nagging feeling she could have done more to save him. The sweetness Rachel and Finn showed each other was something she wanted in her life. And now she knew why Finn had asked her to take that picture that night.

"We both screwed up with that kiss, baby. Jesse—and the judges—were right about that."

"Then what does the snow globe symbolize to you?" A faint rustle, as someone was changing position.

"It was the moment that I first called you an artist." There was another pause, and again the sound of a kiss. Then Rachel, breathless: "Oh baby, no, I made you cry."

"You saved me."

"We saved each other. I keep telling you that."

Maddie felt tears welling up now. She waited a few more moments, filing a couple of books. The two of them were quiet. She realized there were no books for their row, so she tried rolling past them unnoticed. They were sitting at the end of the row, Rachel's head on Finn's shoulder. Both looked tired, but relaxed and happy. Her eyes were closed. Finn glanced over and caught Maddie's eye. He smiled. She smiled back and nodded, knowingly. He winked, and she kept going.

They emerged a few minutes later and came up to her station at the desk with some books to check out. Neither was in their work clothes: Finn was dressed in jeans, t-shirt and his bomber jacket, while Rachel wore a white tank top and short denim skirt with a sweater. She looked at Finn as Maddie was processing the books.

"Do you want to just study here until they close?" She turned to Maddie. "We've got one more hour, right?" Maddie nodded.

"Sure." Finn walked over to the table nearest Maddie's station and stowed his backpack.

Rachel dug a thermos out of hers. "I know it's not allowed. But it was a really long day for Finn at work."

"And not for you?" Rachel looked even more exhausted than Finn.

"Yeah, I guess so. We're just too tired to drive home THEN study."

"I can't even imagine." Rachel gave a wan smile.

Maddie looked around. There were only some students far across the library.

"Go ahead," she said, with a wink.

"Thanks. I want to surprise him with this treat. Want some? You look tired too."

"No, I'm good, Rachel. But thanks."

Maddie watched Finn look up in delight at the thermos. The adoring look he gave Rachel made Maddie's heart hurt—she missed Jack. For all his demons, he had been gentle and kind, and creative. She wished she could have saved him. Loneliness weighed on her.

Maddie finished up her library work, and managed to complete her problem sets for her next classes before having to close up. She walked Rachel and Finn out to the library parking lot before turning towards the dorms. Rachel got her to admit that she liked Eli a lot—their conversation at the deli revealed him to be sweet and funny. "I like beards," she laughed. She also knew that he had a younger brother who had died of cancer (she had mentioned an interest in Eli to her roommate, Mary, who turned out to know one of his ex-girlfriends), and that he dedicated all of his musical performances to him. But they hadn't gotten around to planning a date yet. Finn confided that Eli really liked her, as well.

"Here's a tip: he's a night owl," Rachel whispered in her ear, "and Clement is in Hoboken tonight with his parents." She winked and got into Finn's truck. They both waved to her.

On the way back to her room, Maddie pondered these new people in her life. Her biggest relief was that Finchel was welcoming and apparently not dysfunctional. And she loved how it was anchored by Finn and Rachel's relationship, whose depth and sweetness she had seen so amply displayed tonight.

She got home and went to the refrigerator. "Hey Mary, do you mind if I take these wings?" They had made Buffalo wings the day before. There was muffled assent from Mary's room. She put on a clean pair of jeans, black flats, and a white, tight tanktop and brushed her teeth.

"See ya later," she called out without explanation as she left, the Tupperware container of wings in her hand.

Eli was at least clean, dressed in a black long- sleeved t-shirt and old pajama bottoms, when he answered his door. He looked alert, and most importantly, delighted to see her.

"I bring wings," Maddie said solemnly.

"I have beer."

She kissed him before she was even in the door.


	8. Chapter 8

His Rachel was still awake when he got home from the late music lab with Clement. Most times she waited for him at school on those late nights, but this time she wanted to pick up some groceries first before going home, so she took the bus and subway.

"Hi beautiful," he said, poking his head in their bedroom door before heading to the kitchen. She was showered, with her hair in a braid, sitting up in bed. He loved those pajamas, the dark blue ones with white polka dots. A notebook was in her lap.

"Hi babe!" she exclaimed. "I left you a plate warming in the oven." She got up and followed him.

"Did you manage to score me a stuffed pork chop?" He kissed her madly. "I knew there was a reason I loved you!"

"It was the last one the market had, baby," she murmured in his arms. He pulled it out and she poured them some wine, joining him at the table.

"How was the lab?"

Finn laughed as he ate. "It was…eventful," he said with a twinkle.

"Oh? What happened? Did Ginger Baker come for a visit?" He loved the drummer for Cream.

"No, even more eventful."

"Well, then," she purred, sipping her wine," tell me all about it."

"Clement forgot some music we needed, so we swung by his room to pick it up. Now listen, Rachel, " Finn looked embarrassed, "We had no idea what was about to happen—there was no sock on the door or anything, I swear."

Rachel groaned. "Are you kidding me? Did you walk in on Eli and Maddie?"

Finn nodded sheepishly, chewing on a mouthful. He swallowed.

"You know their dorms use electronic key cards, right? Well, Clement just slid the card and we kinda walked into the room with no warning at all."

They weren't even in bed. Maddie was naked, in front of the couch, cheek pressed against the towel spread under them on the carpet, ass in the air, and Eli on his knees behind her, gripping her hips, pumping enthusiastically. Their eyes were squeezed shut in pleasured concentration.

"It took a second," Finn said, "before any of us realized what just happened."

Rachel face palmed. "Poor Maddie," she murmured, "Poor Eli."

As the door swung completely open, everything seemed to move in slow motion. Maddie's and Eli's eyes snapped open, eventually registering shock. Eli pulled out and immediately rolled his body to cover Maddie's.

"DUDE!" he roared. Maddie grabbed the towel and the two of them scrambled together, backs against the couch, the towel draping their laps, Maddie's arms across her breasts.

"Whoa!" Clement tried to avert his eyes, and Finn blushed down to his roots and began backing out.

"What the fuck, dude?" Eli was furious. Maddie, however, despite blushing as well, had this odd, amused look on her face as she watched Eli rail.

"Sorry, sorry…"Clement was mortified. "I didn't see any sock on the door…and I needed some music…"

"That's because you said you were going to be gone several HOURS," Eli hissed, putting his arm around Maddie protectively. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, Eli, really." Maddie gave him this sweet look. "I mean, it's not like Clement and Finn haven't seen a girl's tits before, am I right?" She looked up and grinned. "So, I haven't scarred them for life or anything." Then she waved one hand impatiently, still covering her breasts with the other arm. "Can you please go get what you came for, then get the fuck out? "

As they fled, Finn and Clement heard Maddie's throaty chuckle and a whisper: "You poor guy. Looks like you're going to have to start all over again." And they heard Eli's laugh.

Clement looked over at Finn, who was about to burst into laughter himself.

"I think she's the best thing to ever happen to him," he remarked.

Rachel giggled. "Getting caught having sex seems to be a theme these days," she joked, waggling her eyebrows. Finn got up and kissed her.

"So what were you working on when I came in?"

"Those lyrics I've been kicking around the last two weeks. I think they're done, at least, ready for you to take a look." She showed him the notebook. "I call it 'I Miss Your Dust'."

He looked at the lyrics, sipping his wine. Almost unconsciously, he began tapping out a rhythm from the meter with his fingers as he read them aloud:

_**It's been quite a while**_

_**Since I dusted you from my shelf**_

_**Removed your clutter from my life**_

_**Straightened up myself**_

I_**I can think much clearer now**_

_**Who knew your being gone**_

_**Could set my life and mind like this:**_

_**A perfect, ordered lawn**_

_**I don't have to laugh as much**_

_**And I hardly ever cry**_

_**Or wonder at the stars above**_

_**And how they fill the sky**_

_**My heart beats slow and steady now**_

_**I don't have to share my dreams**_

_**Or listen to your laughter**_

_**Or the passion in my screams**_

_**I thought I could be happier**_

_**Without all that strife **_

_**Without that glorious mess of you**_

_**All tangled in my life**_

_**But this cleanliness has turned to loneliness**_

_**In your disorder I found trust**_

_**I need your clutter; I need your love**_

_**Oh baby, I miss your dust. **_

Finn put the notebook down.

"I'm sorry about leaving that mess last week." Then he laughed with her. "I love this, really," he pronounced, finally. "But let's try working on lines seven and eight."

Rachel got up and slid onto Finn's lap, arms around his neck. She had other ideas. "We can do that later. I think enough of the lyrics are done to qualify for song sex, don't you? Besides, you've had a long day."

Song sex was even better than no callback sex. Rachel led Finn by the hand to the bedroom, punching him playfully in the arm when he said they had left dishes in the sink.

She let him slowly undress her, kissing her neck and shoulders, unbuttoning the pajama top.

"You'll never know how sexy you look to me in pajamas, baby," he murmured. "It always takes me back to that mattress commercial. "

She closed her eyes, enjoying his kisses, and the pure love in his voice. He squatted and gently pulled on the bottoms, sliding them carefully down her legs, and Rachel could feel electric shocks when he kissed her nipples, sucking each quickly, then her navel, rubbing her lower belly with his stubbly face. She ran her hands through his hair. His teeth tugging down her plain white panties made her jump. She opened her legs slightly to aid him, and was rewarded when he pressed his face against her mound. Their breathing quickened. He breathed her scent in deeply, heaving such a sigh of contentment that she felt weak in the face of his adoration.

Finn rarely just fucked her. Sure, they both got caught up in bouts of raw need every now and then, and when he did just fuck her, it was wild and memorable. But this… Rachel had no experience with other men, and never would, yet she knew innately that what she had making love with Finn was uniquely potent and satisfying. From their very first time, he had told her that she was everything to him, that she infused his very being, and that he had made too many mistakes on his road to her to risk not making her feel special every waking moment of the rest of his life. After almost seven years with him, Rachel had come to depend on his need to have her impact every one of his senses when they made love. She knew how he needed her scent to fill his nose; his ears to gather every sound she made; his eyes to absorb every photon of her image. Her skin delighted his tongue and her touch excited his every nerve. Finn didn't just penetrate her, he _plugged into her, _as if drawing strength from her very core.

Right at that moment, his face buried between her thighs, Rachel, almost empathic now, enjoyed his drinking in of her, her dampness, and the potent but subtle delicacy of her sexual scent. She could feel her skin beneath his touch, hands spreading her thighs to make room for his tongue. She thirsted for the taste of her own wetness, as if Finn was a planetary explorer responding to her commands.

He was moving upward. Rachel almost wanted to scream. Her fingers tangled in his hair as she tried to drag his head towards her for a kiss. She wanted him to fill her. There was the feathery feeling as his belly grazed the hair high on her mound, and then the explosive pressure of his lips upon hers, and his tongue seemed to fill her mouth, pushing past her teeth. Her own scent, clinging to his face, filled her nostrils. He was supporting himself on his elbows and knees—the rest of him seemed suspended in the air, and that he was only attached to her by his lips and her fingers lost in his hair- but then she felt him, the soft tip tentatively feeling its way inside, then the exquisite sensation of being silkily filled by the hardness behind it. His testicles gently slapped her after the first thrust, then again, and again as he moved inside. Instinctively, her knees drew up alongside him, inner thighs gripping his flanks. She felt him involuntarily shiver as her fingers disentangled from his hair and nails ran lightly down his back, forcing his hips to respond like pistons, driving him into her and making her moan.

Emotions and sensations competed with each other for translation in her brain. Sex with Finn, as his love permeated the membrane between their individual selves, brought her to a kind of semi-metaphysical state, a haze of reality and imagination, a suspended consciousness of memory, blurred by desire. Rachel often wondered if anybody else felt this. Somehow she doubted Santana ever did. Everything the poets and philosophers said about two people becoming one seemed pale and simplistic compared to the richness of her own spiritual experience.

The tension built within her as Finn found his rhythm. Their labored breathing filled the room now, over and above the physical exertion, as if their love required additional oxygen on its own. Blood seemed to flow to every nerve ending, making them crackle and snap as Rachel clutched Finn's body to her. Sweat was in his hair and her skin burned where his lips touched and where his chest scraped her breasts. She was almost frictionless to him, she was so wet, yet Finn managed to make pleasure radiate in waves from inside her nevertheless. Each thrust seemed to ratchet up the pleasure threshold until she just couldn't stand it anymore and screamed.

'Ohmygodohmygodohmygod!" She couldn't seem to hold him any closer to her as she rode out the waves, but he egged her on even higher by thrusting more rapidly, until she felt him shudder, giving a strangled cry. His face was buried in her neck as his hips slowed, squeezing every last bit of pleasure from being inside her.

She felt boneless. Her heart was thudding, as was his, and she waited for a few seconds, as Finn's cock softened within her. His arms crushed her to him as he rolled off, lips hungrily seeking hers. Sweat mingled as their bodies cooled, and the breathless kiss seemed to last forever, neither of them wanting to bring it to an end.

"I love you, Finn," she murmured eventually, resting her head on his shoulder, draping her left leg over his hip bones.

"I will always love you," he replied, stroking her hair.

"When I wrote the song, I wasn't thinking about physical messes."

"Yeah, I figured that. What triggered the idea?"

"I was thinking about when we first met." Her heart fluttered because she felt a change in the way he was holding her: differently, even more tenderly. They both revered that moment.

"Soon after that rehearsal, and before our first kiss, I was in my room, trying to figure out how I could incorporate you into my life." She began rubbing his chest. "I had been alone for so long, and my future was mapped out so specifically…" She grinned mischievously. "I wasn't sure if I could fit you in."

"Is that so?"

"Well, I wasn't even sure if you had any interest in me. And you had Quinn. I think I was just preparing myself for disappointment. "

"So…you saw me as a potential monkey wrench in your life?" The good humor in his voice made her smile. He couldn't even pretend to have taken offence at her remark, he loved her that much.

"Considering that you changed everything, I'd say you were more than a monkey wrench in my plan." She clung to him. "And you did change everything. Forever. You were such a fine mess."

"You certainly changed everything for me." He kissed her then, a perfect, tender way to round off the passion they had just experienced.

"You need to sleep now, baby," she told him. "It's late."

"I need to sleep with you," he replied, and they snuggled closer, listening to the street noise below.

"I'm right here," she whispered.

**A/N: the lyrics to "I Miss Your Dust" are mine. Reviews welcome!**


End file.
